by Nero Seal
Savaş lips formed what Talha assumed was a smile. The scarred, pink tissue stretched over the bulging muscle of his cheek, lips drew up, revealing his white teeth with pointy canines. The muscles of the damaged half of his face didn’t respond correctly, and the smile evolved into a demonic, lopsided smirk. At that moment, Talha understood Dinçer’s words that it would be better if he never smiled. With his empty eyes, this kind of smile appeared psychopathic, scary.
“Hmmm? What happened to Slater?” Amusement, too evident in his voice, didn’t reach his eyes but syringed anger into Talha’s veins.
“None of your business. Will you help or not?”
“I wish I could help you, Reis, but I’m already bound with a contract. I don’t serve two masters at once. You can’t wish, but he can.” He tossed a meaningful glance at Dinçer.
“No. I pay for myself. Is there another way?”
“There is.” Savaş grinned showing that hellish smile again. “Kill Dinçer, and I’ll grant three of your wishes. I won’t even ask for payment.”
“Don’t be silly,” Talha sighed, wondering why it was always so hard to deal with rippers. “Ask for something else.”
Savaş’ grin flattened into a colorless slit; he fixed his heavy gaze at Dinçer. The tint of honey in his voice gone, and a demonic, hoarse voice broke out of his mouth. “He wishes, or no deal.”
“If he does, how do I know you won’t ask for his life in return?”
“Oh, you don’t, Reis.” The honeyed voice returned. Savaş’ whiskey-colored eyes glinted with fire as he tossed an uncaring glance at Talha. “But isn’t it more fun this way?”
Dinçer’s face darkened with every second, and a weird expression settled in the depth of his dilated pupils. Talha felt a weird kinship with that emotion that presented a bitter mixture of pity, regret, and hurt.
Maybe Ejder was right. Maybe I have brought it upon myself, and now I’m about to do it to Dinçer.
“Make your last wish!” Savaş urged, slanting forward in a predatory pose, his eyes feasting on Dinçer as wind disarranging his hair.
He’s even worse than Slater. At least Slater is pure and transparent in his desires.
“Forget it.” With a dismissive flick of his wrist, Talha moved to the door. The whole conversation felt like a waste of time, as the little punk only wanted to get back at Dinçer. “Maybe people are right when they say you are nothing without your pretty face. It was stupid of me to think you can be Iblīs, after all, you are too delicate to do what he does.”
“Think whatever you want, Reis, but this cheap trick won’t work on me. If you change your mind, you know my conditions.”
“I won’t.” Talha waved his hand in the air. Dinçer was right. Savaş is nothing like Slater. Not cute at all…
“Wait…” Dinçer croaked. An intake of air preceded the low sound of his request. “Do what Talha wants. Please.”
“No-o-o. I don’t want this.” Talha spun and instantly regretted it because Savaş was smiling.
“Too late, Reis.” A satiated look wiped out the nothingness from Savaş’ eyes, as he brought his hand in the air and snapped his fingers. “Granted, Master, or should I say former master?”
Dinçer’s expression didn’t change, but the color of his skin paled a fraction.
“Oh,” Savaş knitted his brows in an exaggerated sympathy, “don’t be so sad. It’s not like it’s a farewell. Once I’m done, I’ll come to collect the debt.”
With a quick nod, Dinçer left the room.
In the car, eye to eye with Talha, he spoke again. “I didn’t do it for you, so quit looking at me like this.”
“Then why?” Talha asked, suppressing the urge to look in the mirror and find out what expression he wore.
“Who knows...” Dinçer shrugged. “Anyway, if I ever need a favor, you will remember this time, and you will help me, even if it’s to your disadvantage.”
“WHY DON’T YOU GO and see him, Reis?” Miraç asked, pushing an elevator button. With a chime, the doors closed and the cabin moved down.
“I saw him this morning. Don’t think anything changed since,” Talha deadpanned, resting his eyes at the changing numbers on the board. “Is he awake yet?”
“No. He lost a lot of blood, but he’s stable. I expect to take him off the lung ventilation and out of the intensive care by tomorrow morning. It means he should wake up in a few hours, or that’s my hope. He is strong; he should make it.”
Reluctant to express his interest in Slater’s wellbeing, he was grateful for the updates.
“A few hours…” Unconsciously, Talha checked his gold watch. It showed seven PM.
His eyes hurt. Every movement of his eyelids sandpapered his eyeballs. He needed to rest but was short on time. To make his plan work, he had to meet Güvenç in one hour, pass the delivery to Savaş tonight, and speak to every staff member who survived that night. Taking care of the wounded Slater would ruin everything.
“If he wakes up, keep him sedated. I can’t deal with him right now.”
The metal doors slid open letting them into the chilled, spacious morgue; a portable medical refrigerator placed on a dissection table. The bluish light, coming from the tube lamps, glinted off the chrome sinks and tables. Blue checkered tiles reflected in the polished aluminum cabinets, and everything felt dead, even the air saturated with formaldehyde. The temperature here was lower than on the upper floors, and Talha already felt his skin prickling.
Snapping the medical gloves on, Miraç approached the refrigerator and hauled one of the body trays out. There, covered with a white sheet, something delicate rested on a stainless steel plate.
With a habitual casualness, the doctor tossed the sheet aside, picked up Camilla’s body parts, before placing them into the portable fridge.
“Here you go.” He smiled with the tranquility of a pizza delivery guy. “If you are going to keep her in here longer than twenty-four hours, you need to plug it in, ok?”
Talha didn’t answer, staring into the fridge. Camilla’s eyes were still open, and despite the milky fog covering her pupils, he couldn’t shake off the illusion that she stared at him, accusing him.
“Sorry about her eyes. I don’t think that closing them would be wise in this situation.” Miraç flung the cover closed and fastened the lid with the gray, plastic buckles. “I washed all the traces of DNA and possible fingertips off her, so make sure not to touch her.”
Shaking off the unpleasant feeling the dead eyes settled in him, Talha picked up the fridge. Giving the doctor a long look, he said, “Thank you, Miraç. I appreciate it.”
GÜVENÇ DIDN’T DOUBT a single word of his story, making things easier for Talha. His wide face reddened with every word, nostrils flared, and bushy brows knitted. A few times, he jumped to his feet, shaking his massive fists in the air in a powerless fury, but after glancing at Talha, he would huff and sit down again.
When Talha finished his long explanation, Güvenç got up, pressed his palm to his chest, and bowed his head.
“I’ll make them pay, Reis. I swear on my blood, your bride will be avenged.”
“Thank you, my friend. I never doubted you.” Talha nodded, keeping his face straight. “Can I expect the army to be ready tomorrow?”
“Just command, Reis.”
SITTING ON THE HOOD of his car, Talha rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. Despite the engine being turned off for almost half an hour, the hood was still warm.
“How much longer?” he groaned, taking in the sleepy sky, cloaked in featherlike clouds. Exhausted, he craved the soft warmth of his bed before he collapsed.
“It’s almost twelve. She should be here any minute,” Dinçer said, glancing at his watch. “Oh, here she is.”
Talha got up and straightened his t-shirt. After a long day, it clung to his skin, making him feel filthy. The slender woman peeked over her shoulder, in the depth of the dark alley, before hurrying toward him.
“Did you bring it?” Impatience f
orced him to take a step toward her.
“Yes, Reis.” The young woman with her hair tied in a high ponytail and her eyes heavy with makeup, fished for something in her huge bag. A handkerchief transferred from hand to hand. Cringing with disgust, Talha unwrapped it, revealing the tied up condom, containing creamy liquid.
“Whose?”
“Musa Kılıç,” she replied, eyeing him. The redness of her sclera and the hooded lids spoke of her exhaustion, yet they clasped him with predatory interest.
“You are a smart woman, aren’t you? I don’t need to say anything, right?”
“Don’t worry, Reis. I’m certainly not stupid.” A sour smell so characteristic of chain-smokers washed over him with her words.
“Okay. What do you want for your service and silence?” Looking her in the eye, he read her facial lines like an open book. She didn’t have an easy life, but she kept herself well-presented. In her mid-twenties, she covered dark circles around her eyes with a layer of make-up the same way she hid the hickeys and bruises left by her clients.
“I have a child. I want a future for him. A secured future. Food, education, clothes. I don’t want him to be in need of anything. You must know how hard it is for a single mother to provide for a child.”
“I do…” Talha nodded. Better than anyone.
He remembered his mother and all those nights when she had been gone. The shame of her downfall, the guilt for his own insignificance, the hope to change things for the better.
“How old is he?”
“Three.” She beamed, like all mothers do when they talk about their kids.
“Okay. Don’t worry about anything. You will both be taken care of. I promise.” He smiled, and she smiled back.
He stood still for another ten minutes, watching her vanish in the dark alley she came from, before he said, “Make it look like an accident. Be a good guardian to the kid.”
“Talha?” Dinçer cocked his head, eyes wary.
“I can’t let her live. A mother always wants the best for her kid. It’s only a matter of time before she comes to me again with a greater request. Then again and again. It will not stop. Eventually, she will sell the information to those who pay better. I can’t risk it. I’ll keep my word and take good care of the kid. At least, he won’t know the disgrace of his mother. Do it today.”
“Count it done,” Dinçer said, taking the wheel. “Where now?”
“Drive me to the maids who quit after that night, then we can go home.”
HIS BODY DIDN’T FEEL like it belonged to him anymore; still, he welcomed exhaustion, as it left no room for thoughts about Slater. Falling into the bed that promised oblivion, he closed his eyes listening to the ringing silence. He still had a few hours before his meeting with Ifrīt. But the longer he listened, the more awake he became.
The dream refused to come, as even through the layer of plastic, Talha could feel Camilla glaring. Beyond exhausted, he lay on his bed, limbs stretched, concentrating on the notion of his spinning head. Even in the darkness, he knew the room was drifting around him, the walls shrinking with every rotation, as if wanting to squish him.
“Don’t look at me like that…” He couldn’t explain why he was talking to her or even keeping her head in his room, yet somehow, he couldn’t leave it anywhere else. “I’m sorry, but you are already dead. You are smart. You should understand. It’s an opportunity, nothing more…”
“Who are you talking too?” The smooth, honeyed voice cut his monologue, sending a spasm down his body better than any electroshock.
“Do any of you know what privacy means?” Talha sat up, taking in the crouching form of the reaper.
“No, what’s that?” Laughter rang in Savaş’ voice, as a huge smile stretched his lips. The buckles snapped, as the ripper opened the freezer. “She is pretty. What did she do?”
Without hesitation, he picked up the head and stared into Camilla’s eyes.
“Don’t touch her, idiot. She is already prepared for forensics.”
“Don’t worry, Reis, I wear gloves. What did she do?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Talha frowned. “How did you enter?”
“You have a blind spot in your security system.”
“A blind spot? Where?”
Ignoring him, Savaş pored over the dead eyes. He tilted her head left, then right, as if trying to solve the puzzle or read something in her face. “She must have done something to deserve such a death. How was it? Do you have pictures? I wonder how perfectly she fit into all the gore. Like a pearl, so pale…”
“Hands off her, Reaper,” Talha growled, feeling the first bubble of anger bursting in his throat. “Why did you come? Where’s Dinçer?”
“Oh, jealous much? Don’t worry, I mean no harm or disrespect. I came to collect your bride, why else? I figured why to wait till morning if I can come now.” A leer in his voice tightened every one of Talha’s nerves, instilling a thought about a gun into his head. He only had to slide his hand over the linens and under the pillow to grip the handle. “Let’s make a deal, Reis. Tell me your love story. All of it, without anything to hide. If your story is good and truthful, I won’t charge Dinçer and I’ll point out the blind spot in your security. If you lie, I’ll kill you. Hmm? What happened to her?”
With a loud thud, the head dropped back into the fridge. The ripper straightened, looking at Talha.
Fucking reapers… Talha cracked his neck, getting up. No respect. No privacy. No peace. I’m gonna break his jaw…
“You are overstaying your welcome, and this is the last warning. Put her in the backpack and go away, or I’ll smash your pretty face against the table.”
“You find me pretty?” Savaş’ yellow eyes fixed on him as a weird, complex expression crossed his face. “You sleep with him, don’t you?”
With a cat-like grace and incredible speed, Savaş jumped forward. Hands connecting with Talha’s chest, they tumbled on the bed with the ripper on top of him.
“Why don’t you make a deal with me, Reis? For every three of your wishes, you’ll grant one of mine. I might ask for your life, or I might ask you to bring me an apple. It’s as simple as this.”
Cold fingers dug into his shoulders as the scarred face approached.
“Haven’t you said I have nothing to pay you with? “Talha rolled his eyes, finding himself in a painfully familiar situation.
“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you do. Get rid of Slater, and I’ll serve you well. You won’t regret it. “
“What made you change your mind?” His pulse remained steady as he hurled his upper body to the side, attempting to shake the reaper off, but failed. Resting back, he heaved a sigh. “Would you get off, please? I don’t have the energy to wrestle with you…”
“The way you look at me. There is no pity in your eyes, and you don’t search for words. I like it. Also, you are deliciously immoral, yet, you keep your word, don’t you?” Talha laughed, wondering what was wrong with these rippers. Who fucked them up so badly, that they were so twisted? “Don’t laugh. Unlike Slater, I can be anything you want me to be. I grant wishes, Reis. In bed too. Do you know what it means?”
“Trouble?” Gathering all the strength left in his body, Talha shoved him aside. “Anyway, are you reapers or whores? Why are you so eager to spread your legs for me?”
“What do you mean, why?” On his knees, Savaş arched his black, perfect brow. “Right now, I’m just a ripper for you. You don’t care if I die or live. But if you sleep with me, it will get personal. If we bond, my failures will be yours. You will take care of me as something that’s yours.” A frown clouded his features. “This is why you can’t abandon Slater after everything he has done, isn’t it? This is why I know you are sleeping with him.”
“Okay, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, and, honestly, I’m too fed up with one reaper to want to deal with another. As you said, I have nothing to pay you with. I have already sold my soul to the devil.”
“Your loss.” S
avaş’ expression didn’t change, as he shuffled away and slipped off the bed. “He can’t be loyal, but I can. If I leave now, I won’t offer it again.”
“Go, ripper. Don’t kill anyone, don’t get seen, and don’t forget to erase the security footage.”
“Whatever…” With a smirk, Savaş picked up the fridge.
“Savaş… If I were you, I wouldn’t offer this deal to anyone else.”
With a smirk, Savaş left the room.
That night, Talha slept like the dead.
SLATER GROANED, TEARING HIS eyes open, but instantly closed them, shying away from the painfully bright daylight. When he tried again, the bluish room he didn’t recognize drifted before him, sucking on his stomach. Nauseous, Slater groaned again.
He tried to speak, but something held his tongue pinned down, and only a low whisper broke out from his mouth. Lifting his hand, he fumbled over his face. Fingers, finding a plastic device in his mouth, tugged on it; something rubbed against the back of his throat and a vomiting spasm hit him with a coughing fit.
Tears rushed out of his eyes, as his mouth overflowed with sour saliva. A vicious pain sprung beneath his right rib, making him writhe.
Gasping for air, he cast aside the long tube slick with bile and saliva, blinking through tears. Staying still for a moment, he couldn’t remember ever feeling this broken, as every muscle seemed to solidify.
Where is Slater? The heavy thought barely moved in his cotton-filled head. He tried to call for Master, but his voice failed him, and only a croak vibrated in his chest. His mind, slowly coming around, remembered the street fight, the mosque, and Master’s escape. His angry words and the bloody kiss.
Trying to calm his breathing, he closed his eyes, listening for his body to speak to him. His legs responded, but something unpleasant held the index finger of his left hand. The effort drained him of strength, but he lifted his hand and peeled the finger clip off.
A piercing noise perforated his head, forcing him to roll to the side in an attempt to get up, but he choked on air when a white pain wiped out everything, even the noise. Someone pulled him back, and within a moment, many hands covered his body, that he felt like vomiting. He hated being touched by people who weren’t his master.
